Pri Latzi /При Лаци/
Hungarian Restaurant

Address: 18 Oborishte Street, Sofia
Tel: 846 8687
Mobile: 0888/048895
Open: 11am to 11pm

Time was – the time of communist Bulgaria, to be precise – that there was a Hungarian restaurant in Sofia’s Rakovska Street called Budapeshta, and those who remember speak of it with, if you will allow me, relish.

Times changed, and the former chef transmogrified himself into the owner of this establishment on Oborishte Street, named “Pri Latzi” (Latzi’s place) on its signage but simply “Ungarski Restorant” (Hungarian Restaurant) on its business cards. The latter speaks either of the confidence of legendary status, or the printers got the order wrong.

Arriving for a late lunch on Friday at about 1.30pm, the three of us found only two tables free, one for six and one for two. Given that the place is rather small, and that prices are not unreasonable, as well as the restaurant’s central location close to Doctors’ Garden, it is not surprising that tables would be in demand. In March 2006, a reviewer for The Sofia Echo found that most of the patrons were foreigners; this time round, most were Bulgarians.

A Hungarian restaurant has a natural advantage in this season, as the weather turns colder. Like Sofia’s Russian and Czech restaurants, a Hungarian restaurant offers a national cuisine that is on the heavier side, suitable for carbo-loading against the cold. That said, the menu offers a number of items that will be familiar to anyone well acquainted with Bulgarian restaurants, and by now I have come to suspect that may be the norm in all local interpretations of Central and Eastern European cuisines.

Beneath the mass-produced tourist posters advertising the delights of Hungary and the inevitable dangling dried chilis, we did not have to wait for long for attention from the waitress, who was friendly, helpful and polite by the standards of this country. Goulash (4.50 leva) was a cliched choice of course, a stereotype internationally in the way that for so many people Greek wine = retsina and Italy = pasta, though one of our number decided on the carp soup, for the same price, out of the total choice of eight soups. The menu, which is available only in Bulgarian, has a page dedicated to Hungarian specialities. Of these, duly noted were beef shkembe “po ungarski” (7.10 leva), similarly chicken liver “po ungarski” (6.80 leva) and, yes, spaghetti “po ungarski”. Two of us chose the chicken fillet (shall we take the “po ungarski” as read?) for 8.20 leva and no one was feeling sufficiently adventurous to try to the chicken fillet with banana, which, it may be noted, lacked the “po ungarski” suffix. Also on offer were brashoy apropecheni, pork and ham covered in vegetables, filet ovari, pork, ham and mushrooms baked and covered in melted cheese, and tzigansko pecheno (gypsy roast), pork and bacon cooked in a wine and garlic sauce.

The wine list selection included a number of Hungary’s Tokay wines, but no Hungarian reds, so given the cold weather there was swift consensus on ordering my beloved Assenovgrad Mavrud (19.50 leva).

There was no stinting on the ingredients in the goulash soup, and certainly if not that hungry on a cold winter’s day it could make a meal in itself, but it could not be said to have drawn an especially enthusiastic response, and it may be suspected that among connoisseurs of Hungarian cuisine, it may be received as no more than ordinary. The carp soup was described as slightly on the spicy side, and there was some annoyance – by no means the fault of the chef, at dealing with the bones of that fish. Portions are at least generous, and when the main courses arrived, in line the Bulgarian tradition that dictates that food arrives when it, rather than the patrons, are ready, the amount of food made it seem the best approach to quit the soups and proceed with the main event. None of the three of us dining is a glutton. With their rich creamy sauces and meats cooked to the correct degrees, the main courses were adequate and filling, but a discussion of them was prompted more by the fact that we were sharing opinions for the sake of a restaurant review, rather than their being so marvellous as to inspire a distraction from other conversation.

We were disappointed that the chestnut puree (3.60 leva) was not available that day. Surprising, because chestnuts can hardly be a scarce commodity at this time of year. Subsequently, I heard from those who had been to the old-era restaurant that this dessert was a must-have. If I go back to the restaurant, I will be very disappointed if once again it is a can’t-have.

In all, our bill, with tip, came to 55 leva.